Fort Gus

He eats whole cubes of butter, has super soft ears, loves to stand on our kitchen counters, sleeps with his legs up in the air, has a pacifier preferences (he prefers nuks over soothies), tries to ride shotgun from the backseat, sexually harasses all of our visitors, has separation anxiety, hates Santa costumes, randomly kills possums on his morning runs, has a love/hate relationship with the mail carrier, is learning how to spell w-a-l-k, knows how to vacuum up food off the floor, replants and rearranges tulip bulbs, has his own doorbell, and now much to the amusement and amazement of the neighborhood: he escapes! Gus has figured out how to open our front gate. Let’s just say, it has brought a whole new dimension to our front yard, which is currently being referred to as "Fort Gus."

Gus sleeping after a muddy adventure last week